“It’s time to reach through the screen again, Baker Bloch.”
“Not one but two Lindens I have brought you to this meeting.”
“The meeting of Lime World vs. World of Lemon,” I attempted to clarify.
“I am a witch, yes. You will listen to me now. I am equal to John. We are two in one.”
“You ruined…” I started to declare.
“Well… besides, you’re not really…”
I paused. “No as in, no you’re not really that person or, um, no you’re really that person?”
Who am I?
Who was sitting opposite me?
I am here. But not here. There. Better get there.
The grass has changed. Trees. I look to the distance and see…
She returned to bar 01. They talked.
“Nautilus is the oldest continent,” she began, thinking of the center again.
“Sansara,” corrected Woody.
“Not any more at least,” she furthered after a weighted pause.
They entered “Lime House” together.
“Philip,” Baker spoke. “You may want to sit down for this one.”
“You didn’t create Second Life,” Wheeler blurted out. She couldn’t wait.
Klancaster. Whence he came from. The dirt, the grime. He must cleanse himself in this mountain environment. Forget about Snowwhite Well. Forget about Dixon Too, Maw, Cousin Odie, the rest.
No, this was not the snow peaked mountain of treasure lore he’s on. (Dixon walks across the stone patio.) But he’s *close*. He can feel it. Maybe even that far summit over there hidden behind the tall pines?
Hold on. What’s that?
*Linden* trees. And in such profusion. He’s never seen so many in one place. He must go check it out!
So thick you can’t see what’s inside. And the property’s banned.
Oh well, Dixon thinks. Moving on.
“One down, one to go, Young Duncan. Hold on.”
“I’ll protect you, Young Duncan. They won’t be able to reach you here.”
“Thanks Phillip. Should I call you Linden? Or Rosedale?”
“Either one now.” He glances over at the black boy sitting atop a burning pyramid of wood. “At least you’re immune to fire here.”
“True,” proclaims warm but not hot Duncan. He stirs slightly to get more comfortable on his perch. “I know you’ll figure it out. Because you have such a big head about you. I’ve seen it again and again. Over and over.”
“Never gets old.”
“Thank you. I’ll be here all week.”
“Pitch Darkly will be here shortly, Young Duncan. As soon as they start talking to Phillip Linden about The Diagonal, trot over there and lay this giant lime on the bar counter. That’s all you have to do. Just wait here.”
“Yes,” he affirms, hip to Lou’s trip.
“Come on, honey,” says the approaching Osborne Well (father). We have somewhere else to be now. Should’ve been there about 2 hours ago, blimey.”
“You see, Pitch darling. *This* is where it all happens. A philosopher’s corner. A veritable cornucopia of ideas and inventions. Why, just last week Phillip suggested the idea of a cubic moon for Second Life with equilateral gravity on all six sides. Not flat like this place. And I think that’s where it’s all headed, Pitch. Diagonal. Because diagonal leads beyond. Have you ever moved in a diagonal sugar?”
Pitch didn’t really know what Mary was babbling on about. A young black man who had been sitting on the opposite side of the room suddenly moved toward the bar toting a large, green lime between his hands. Not saying anything, he placed it on the counter, then exited via the stairs down to the lower floor.
Phillip became fully awake again, looked at Mary, looked at the big lime. “A lime is called a linden in Britain.”
“Who *was* that shadowy figure?” he begged.
If I could just block out Linden — Philip Linden – and make Tronesisia whole(some?) again, she could come back to life and reestablish lemony goodness over blimey lime at New Island. Sight returned, *smell* returned. But while the kiln exists, the firing could happen again. Over and over. Female receptacle.
Artist Point, July 20 2018
Ratzenberger could become the original Our Second Lyfe sim, not Da BOOM. Ratzenberger and its *still present* wacky rabbit. Pretty amazing.
Mr. Matrix, equipped with his own ratmobile, had laid the bait several months back in the Pond District’s Rodentia. Cheese for the rat, but also carrot for the rabbit. Rat bit. But then he determined that he was probably the rat (bit) himself he did seek. Another wacky loop.
So that’s it. I must return to the Pond District and follow up on the story of Mr. Matrix and also Wheeler’s presence there. Mt. Pond outside a window. Paint bait. The wackies look on and get organized and in line behind her. “Paint paint paint!” they shout in unison. “Art art art!”
She must return to the point of it all.
She imagines dreaming on its top.
Rodentia, July 20 2018